


To Lovers, Brothers, and Heartbreak

by JEAikman



Series: The Musketeers - prompts and one-shots [16]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alcohol, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Suicidal Thoughts, d'art gets so drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 01:49:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1327327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JEAikman/pseuds/JEAikman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>d'Artagnan is heartbroken after Constance breaks with him - and he tries to cope with his grief, but he goes about it the wrong way - he uses the Athos method: getting as drunk as humanly possible.</p>
<p>It's still not enough.</p>
<p>It will never be enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Lovers, Brothers, and Heartbreak

****

After the events at the contest, Athos was left concerned for the young Gascon. He found him moving his things into the garrison, much to his surprise. But then the young man's words from earlier... about love - what could have brought that on but some disagreement with Madame Bonacieux? But it was not his business, so he did not wish to intrude.

 

They had partied earlier that night, to celebrate d'Artagnan's acceptance into their ranks, but the young man had stayed surprisingly sober, and though he smiled and laughed and thanked the others when they congratulated him, they were not the genuine warm, heartfelt grins that he was used to seeing from the lad. He was reserved, quiet. It was entirely out of character. And so, when he had departed before the rest of them, Athos only waited a short while, informing Porthos and Aramis of what he was doing, and he headed after the errant Gascon.

 

He did not know what he had been expecting, but it was not this. Not bottles strewn across the floor, emptied - six at least - and d'Artagnan slouched over his table, hand still on the bottle. He had never expected to see the Gascon look up at him with such a look in his eyes that he felt he were staring into a mirror. D'Artagnan looked away with a scowl.

"Go 'way, Athos. I don't want company."

"So I see. Nonetheless, you constantly pester me when I am in no mood for it, so I am content to return the favour." He looked around at the empty bottles, and felt sick at heart that he had not noticed whatever it was that caused the young man distress. "I hope you know that you can trust me - as I have trusted you." D'Artagnan only glared at him and moved to take another swig of his wine, but Athos stopped him. "Enough, d'Artagnan. You've had too much already." But his young friend just shook his head and tried to grab for it again, though Athos kept it out of reach. Was this how _he_ acted when he was drunk? What on earth had possessed the boy to follow his example?

"More than you know, you said" d'Artagnan mumbled eventually. "Maybe you were onto something, there." His hand tightened into a fist and he refused to meet his fellow Musketeer's eyes. "Maybe I am more like you than I thought."

"d'Artagnan, tell me what happened?"

"I love her, Athos, and she... told me she didn't love me. Even after... she- I...." He looked up at his friend helplessly. "What do I do now, Athos? What do I do now?"

"Oh, lad." Athos strode forward and embraced him, wrapping his arms tightly around him. Having Athos close to him, warm and solid, providing comfort, was the final straw that caused d'Artagnan to break down into great shuddering sobs that wracked his whole frame.

"I don't..." His breath hitched and his voice stuttered as he struggled to find the words. "Why? I thought- I thought we were hap- happy. I still- no matter what- she says, I don't think I could ever stop." Athos said nothing, only held the boy closer and rubbed soothing circles on his back as he cried his heart out.

Eventually, he wore himself out and just sagged against Athos' shoulder, and the older Musketeer wondered if he had perhaps fallen asleep. But something nagged at him - the idea that Constance Bonacieux, a woman he had always respected, could hurt d'Artagnan in such a way, was as bizarre to him as it was unforgivable. Athos well remembered how it felt to have his heart wrenched and his soul thus torn in two - but he had good reason for turning the love of his wife to hate. D'Artagnan had none of that. He was lost and heartbroken and there was no _reason_ for it. Closing his eyes he sighed and lifted d'Artagnan awkwardly to the bed. There was a slightly indignant groan, so Athos knew he was still awake.

"Why the drinking, d'Artagnan? You've seen me enough times to know it's not a good idea." He admonished. "This isn't how you deal with things. I know you." D'Artagnan looked up at him sharply, then gave a sad smile and shook his head.

"Do you, Athos? Do you know me? Because I am not sure that I even know myself anymore. As for the wine... I just wanted to forget, even for a moment. But it didn't work - it never does, does it? You drink and you drink and you drink, but it never goes away. I don't know whether I wish I had never met her - no, I couldn't wish that. But I half feel I wish myself dead. And... I know I shouldn't. I should be happy, because I'm a Musketeer now but-"

"Hush, lad" Athos interrupted, placing a warm hand on the boy's shoulder. "No one says you have to be happy. You have your dream - but you have lost who you wished to share them with. Your father, I'm sure, you would wish could have seen you. And as for Const-" seeing d'Artagnan flinch, he did not say the rest of her name aloud. "As for the woman who troubles your thoughts- you have lost her in a crueller way than I lost mine. For mine I was to hang - shoddy work I made of it, I'll grant, but I never doubted she loved me, in her twisted way." he admitted, giving d'Artagnan a wry smile which he returned. "But to be in love, and to have that love spat back in your face by one who should know better... But do not despair, d'Artagnan, I beg of you - do not fall into the blackness of melancholy. It is a terrible lake to be drowning in. And I'll need you to pull me out of it. I beg this selfish indulgence, my friend - if I had a son, I could not love him more than I do you. If you trust in nothing else, d'Artagnan, trust in us." His voice was hoarse with emotion and d'Artagnan sat up, though his head was pounding. Athos firmly gripped his shoulder and forced the Gascon to look him in the eyes.

"Let nothing matter except the brotherhood we share - you are one of us now, d'Artagnan, truly. And we look after our own." D'Artagnan nodded, his lip trembling, but this time his tears were of gratitude that this man could care so much about him. "No more drinking for you, alright? I won't have Treville saying I set a terrible example for his young recruits"

"You do, though." D'Artagnan retorted with a smile - a real one, this time, which Athos couldn't be more relieved to see. Athos cuffed him about the back of the head for his insolence, but he was smiling himself.

"We'll see you through this, d'Artagnan. All of us."

"Do the others _have_ to know?" He whined petulantly. Athos rolled his eyes fondly, remembering a time when Thomas had been just as this boy was - well, as he usually was, at any rate. Perhaps that would account for the overly protective urge when it came to this boy.

"yes, they do" He answered calmly. "I was not the only one who was worried. Aramis especially so - he is a great believer in love." D'Artagnan sighed.

"Yes, and he was acting like a jealous wife when Porthos was talking with Alice". Athos said nothing, but shook his head and smiled fondly.

"Yes, nevertheless, they should know." He told d'Artagnan firmly.

"See if I pull you out of a burning building ever again" He grumbled and rolled over. Then he remembered that his farm had been burned down too, even if he had not been there to see it. "I guess we really are alike, aren't we?" he asked ruefully, and Athos sighed

"Oh, d'Artagnan, how I wish we weren't. I would wish to spare you your heartaches and sorrows, truly. But every man must bear his own cross, I suppose." He stood and picked up and tidied away the bottles that d'Artagnan had strewn messily about the place - there were eight in total. "One thing I can say with absolute certainty, is that you will regret this come the morning."

"Mmm" d'Artagnan agreed, falling back against the pillows and actually falling asleep this time.

 

That was when Porthos and Aramis appeared in the doorway, looking far more sober than they would have done on any other night, seemingly hoping to check on his progress with their young Gascon

"Oh... he's asleep?" Aramis asked, looking from Athos to d'Artagnan.

"Yes. He's had a long day. A very long day." He pulled the blanket up so it covered d'Artagnan, and ruffled his hair gently. "So be careful not to wake him up."

"Did you find out what was bothering him then, my friend?" Aramis asked. Athos nodded. "Well then, what is it?" he pressed. Sighing, Athos ran a hand over his face.

"A little of everything. With the news of his farm being burnt to the ground, memories of his father... As for why he said what he did earlier, that has to do with Madame Bonacieux."

"Constance? Has something happened to her?" Aramis asked, concerned. Scowling Athos shook his head.

"No, she broke his heart."

"What?!" Aramis was incredulous he saw himself as a wonderful judge of women, and Constance Bonacieux had seemed to him one of the best.

"She told him she did not love him, and that she never could. He's not coping well." Athos looked in the direction of the empty bottles and the others followed his gaze.

"He drank all that?" Porthos wondered aloud. Athos nodded.

"He did. I had to take the ninth one away from him. He..." Athos pressed his eyes closed to hold back the tears. "He said he wanted to die."

Porthos was shocked, but Aramis only looked sad.

"Such is the way when young hearts are broken- I remember... but never mind that. Did you at least talk some sense into him?" Athos nodded, swallowing, and trying to hide the hoarseness in his voice.

"I did. I told him that no matter what, he would always have us."

"One for all, and all for one, eh?" Porthos suggested. Aramis' brow twitched upwards and he smiled.

"Where on earth did you come up with that? It's brilliant." Porthos just shrugged.

"You're right, however, Athos. I, for one, do not intend to let our little brother down." Porthos and Athos both agreed wholeheartedly. For d'Artagnan was not just a stray Gascon puppy any longer, he was their responsibility. He was now a Musketeer, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> there may be little nods to the book here and there  
> also I remember the whole "Aramis was going to be engaged" thing.  
> so yes. enjoy sharing in my feels.


End file.
